In what is a sign of these difficult
economic times, traditional, family-run trattorias
and restaurants in Italy are closing shop at an alarming rate, only to be
replaced by pretentious restaurants all too busy at turning unlikely
ingredients into almost texture-less matters (foams, mousses, sponges…),
horrible fast-food type pizzerias, or westernized Oriental food emporiums of
little consequence. Then, just when you start thinking the country is becoming
awash with a legion of dining spots that have no past (and no future), you have
a wonderful meal at a place like Mantova’s Aquila Nigra and life immediately
begins to make sense again.

Culatta, Mantua salad and pear mostarda

Aquila Nigra itself is not so old.
The restaurant was founded in 1984, when owners Giorgio Bini and Vera Caffini
needed to move to larger quarters to better serve their many, and continuously
increasing, customers.

Aquila Nigra translates to “black
eagle” (aquila nera), the symbol of
the contrada (neighborhood)where the restaurant and its historic
home, the Palazzo delle Tre Cappe, are located. One of the finest
bastions of traditional cooking in Italy, Aquila Nigra is a place where someone
who actually knows how to cook is in charge. A meal here is very much like
coming in from out of the cold, a warm wool blanket wraps around your shoulders
on a cold and dark winter’s day. Everything harkens back to a time long gone
by, from the large red marble fireplace and the high ceilings that characterize
the refined internal dining room, the phlegmatic but very professional waiters and
the owner, an older gentleman busy reading the newspaper out in front of the
restaurant near the bar (a well stocked bar is always a very good sign, of
course).

Chestnut and mushroom soup with pigeon ravioli

The menu is all about comfort food. Precisely
rendered tortelli di zucca and the extremely
high quality salumi, such as the culatta and salame mantovano, have me wishing I lived in Mantova! I could easily
have a second portion of both. Only the fact I am in the company of a lady holds
me back from bringing my more slothful instincts out into full view.

Pumpkin tortelli with melted butter and grated Grana
Padano cheese

The NV Luigi Virgili Lambrusco Mantovano Imperiale Pjaföc matches brilliantly
with both dishes, in a way few other wines can. Bright and bubbly, with strong
but precise aromas and flavors of strawberry, ripe black cherry, vanilla and
sweet spices, this specific Lambrusco wine (a blend of Lambrusco Salamino,
Lambrusco Ruperti and Ancellotta) is a lot of fun just on its own. I never
cease to be amazed how well Lambrusco matches with the hearty and not exactly
lean local cuisine. There is something almost magical about how a well-made Lambrusco
(such as the one made by Virgili) pairs with the local salame mantovano and the tortelli,
that is truly hard to put into words. One morsel of the salumi or tortelli plus
one sip of the Lambrusco is gastronomic nirvana.

Cannoli and candied sugar glazed chestnuts

The loin of hare is another crowd
pleaser: the meat is juicy and tender, its delicate underlying bitterness very
well buffered by the sweetness of the blackcurrants and the texture of the
chestnuts. This is another dish I could easily have seconds of. The 1993
Château Haut Brion turns out to be just as big a star as the dish. From an
unheralded vintage, this magnificent Premier Cru Classé is drinking beautifully
and boasts a lovely penetrating perfume (cassis, violet, cedar, graphite and
botanical herbs) plus a delicate texture. It serves as a poignant remainder of just
how much pleasure and food friendliness less famous Bordeaux vintages can deliver.

At meal’s end, Giorgio Bini appears
at our table with a 375ml bottle of what looks to be a sweet white wine. He previously
had decanted the Haut Brion for us and had been pleasantly surprised when we
asked him to join us for a glass or two, which he gratefully accepted before heading
back to the bar. Clearly, Bini has been waiting for us to reach the dessert
stage of our meal, and when the time comes, he makes sure to pop by holding the
small bottle, telling us he wants us to try what is in his opinion a lovely
local sweet white wine.

The 2009 Ricchi Passito Bianco Le Cime (a wine I don’t remember having ever tried
before) is a 50/50 blend of Garganega and Moscato Giallo. The grapes are
air-dried for about 90 days and the wine is aged for anywhere from 15 to 20
months in small oak barrels, depending on the vintage. Luscious and moderately
sweet, the wine showcases orange blossom, honey and grapefruit aromas and
flavors. It pairs well with our cannoli and perhaps even better with the
conversation. Thanks to the magic of wine, three people who don’t know each
other much at all and have no trouble at all bonding.